


One More Miracle

by ReynaBee



Category: Shefani, The Voice - US
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-25
Updated: 2016-02-25
Packaged: 2018-05-23 06:13:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6107597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReynaBee/pseuds/ReynaBee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Apollo's second birthday is being celebrated a week early.  We all saw the pictures posted online, now go behind the scenes to see what really happened at the party.</p>
<p>For Jess; I hope you like it</p>
            </blockquote>





	One More Miracle

By the time the plane arrived in Los Angeles, I was dead-ass tired. The almost five-hour flight from Detroit would've offered me the best chance at getting some shut eye, but I had decided to use this alone time to my advantage. Once I landed, I knew that there would be so much to do, and so little time to do it in, so instead of sleeping, I listened to a few mixes of new songs off of the upcoming album, emailed my manager Brandon and the Kid's Choice Awards producers about a change in a skit for the show, and answered a shitload of text messages; basically, by the time I fell asleep, the plane was flying over the Hoover Dam. That wouldn't even give me enough time to develop morning breath. My flight landed less than an hour later.

Gwen had offered to come pick me up, but I'd already had car service arranged. Besides, as much as I'm dying to see her, what kind of man would I be, letting her get up in the middle of the night, losing sleep and leaving the comfort of her warm bed, when I could just as easily get dropped off. This was the only time of day, it seemed that L.A. quieted down, and the ride was pretty smooth and quick as I chatted with the driver all the way to Beverly Hills. Using the key that Gwen had given me back on New Year's Eve as part of our "I'm looking forward to our future together" conversation, I let myself in, took off my cowboy boots, so they wouldn't make noise against the hard surface of the floors, and turned to the hallway at the left, walking towards the master suite.

As I expected, she was asleep. Her blonde hair spilled onto the pillow underneath her head, her plump lips slightly parted. I couldn't help but smile; she was turned towards my side of the bed, clutching the pillow that I sleep on, perhaps as a sign of how much she had missed me and was looking forward to seeing me again. Lord knows I tried to move around the room quietly, but for Pete's sake, I'm 6'5, and clumsy, and in a bedroom full of modern furniture and clean lines, and objects made for the smaller, more delicate hands of the beautiful woman in bed over there. Of course, in the dim light of the room, I bumped into something, which knocked something else over, which then in turn startled Gwen out of her sleep. And now I'm standing here looking like a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar.

"Blake?" She lifts her head now at the sudden noise, and smiles sleepily when she sees me in the dark. I figure she can't quite make out my expression, but right now I'm feeling both sorry to have woken her up, as well as glad that she's awake.

"Honey, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake ya." I set down my bag and walk over to sit on the bed next to her. My hand reaches out for hers, and I lean over to plant a kiss right on top of it.

"S'okay." Drowsiness still hoarsens her voice, and I can just barely make out her sleepy smile. I'll tell you one thing, though; I'm so glad that I high-tailed it back here. "I don't care; I'm just so happy you're home."

You're home. Obviously, this place is not my house, and the only items here that belong to me are my new truck, clothes and my toothbrush and crap like that. But I know that home is where the heart is, and ever since I fell in love with Gwen and the boys, this place has now truly become another home for me, along with my ranch in Tish. "Let me get ready for bed; I'll be right back."

I kiss her soft lips before I stand up and head to the spacious bathroom to wash up. I shut the door behind me, not wanting the light to disturb her. Tomorrow...hell, today is going to be busy and non-stop, and I'm beat, but maybe if I hurry up, I can manage a couple of minutes to cuddle with her before we both fall asleep.

Lucky for me, she's still awake and waiting for me when I step back into the room. I slide between the sheets, she slides into my arms, and together, we end up making love - the unhurried, hazy daydream kind of lovemaking that heals whatever is wounding you at the moment. I roll us over to the other side of the bed, where the sheets are cool and dry, and we fall asleep like this: her head on my chest, and our legs in a tangle.

 

Four hours or so later, and all hell has broken loose down the hall. It's a little after 9:00 in the morning, and I get up to go mediate Kingston and Zuma's screaming match, reassuring Gwen that she can stay in bed because I can handle it. I throw on a t-shirt and my camo sleep pants, and follow the ruckus to the living room. 

The best offense is a good defense. "Who wants pancakes?" I wish they were the good kind that Gwen's housekeeper makes from scratch, but she gets the weekends off and so we're left with the frozen kind that don't hold up too well when you nuke them. It's better than the gnawing in my stomach though, so I don't complain.

Zuma stops mid-yell and turns to face me as I walk through the room, past them, and into the kitchen. "Blake's back!" The boys follow me, standing at the island as I open the freezer and root around for the family size box of microwaveable flapjacks.

"Kingston, Zuma; how many do you each want?" Zuma holds up five fingers and Kingston says he wants two. I could eat about ten myself, but since there are only 12 left in the damn box, I wrap them all up in separate paper towels - Zuma only getting three and me getting the remaining seven - pop them in the microwave and let them heat up.

"Now, y'all know your mom is sleepin' still, and so is Apollo. She's had a busy week and needs her rest, yet you're in here being loud and obnoxious. What do you think I'm gonna say to you boys about that?" I never try to be preachy with them; I want them to learn how to think things through for themselves and not just hear my country ass voice yelling at them. I've never really been much of a yeller, anyway. "Kingston?"

The older boy's voice is subdued and he looks apologetic as he speaks. "That we were too loud and we should be quiet."

"Good answer. Zuma?" The microwave beeps that our breakfast is ready, but I ignore that until my point has been made.

The younger boy runs over to the appliance, more than ready to forget this conversation and stuff his face. "The pancakes are ready!"

"No pancakes until you answer me." I reach over and hold the door of the microwave shut, as I repeat my question. "What do you think I'm gonna tell you about your behavior this morning?"

He pushes his glasses up on his face, realizing that I'm not dropping this subject until he responds. "That I should be quiet so mommy and Apollo can sleep."

"You got it, little buddy. I don't wanna have to talk to you guys about this over and over. You boys are smart and know how to respect your mother and treat each other, so don't let this happen again, you understand what I'm tellin' you?"

They both shake their heads 'yes', and look like the wind had been blown out of their sails. Well now that my point has been made, that's enough of that; I don't like beating a dead horse. "Now Kingston, get the syrup and Zuma, you get some forks, and I'll get the plates. It's time to eat, boys." 

I ruffle the hair on their heads to let them know that all is well, and as they shuffle off, I turn to grab the plates from the overhead cabinet and the pancakes from the microwave. Before I can even reach out my hand, my eyes land on Gwen as she stands smiling in the doorway, unseen by any of us in the kitchen.

As she approaches me, I smile too. "You handled that like a pro; thank you." She's barefoot and has to stand on her toes to reach my mouth for a quick kiss. I love it when she looks at me like that: like I'm her freakin' hero.

"Mom!" The boys interrupt anything I might have tried to start once they see her, coming to give her a hug. "Sorry I was loud." 

Zuma chimes in, imitating his big brother. "Me too; I'm sorry." 

Man, I am so proud of these two right now. Good kids.

"I love you boys." Gwen kisses them each on their foreheads before they run back to their breakfast preparations. Not able to resist any longer, I pull her sleep-warmed body into mine. She looks up at me, happiness evident in her face. "And I love you, too."

 

 

A short time later and everything starts taking off. Gwen and I had managed to have a good breakfast with the older boys, before Apollo toddled out to the kitchen. She fed him, and I supervised the older two as they got washed and dressed. Then, she and I took turns getting ready ourselves before the doorbell rang for the first time. 

In that hour alone, the party planner, balloon makers, petting zoo company, caterers, bakery and band all show up. Apollo's birthday party is set to start in the afternoon and I must say, I'm impressed at how calm and cool Gwen is being. I guess I had expected her to be running around like a chicken with her head cut off, but I soon find out I'm wrong. She greets everyone who comes, and introduces them to the party planner, who then takes over. Gwen is more concerned about the height of her ponytail and keeping the boys out of everyone's way, than she is in micro-managing everything else going on. When she comes out of the room, all dressed and made-up with the birthday boy on her hip, I just about lose my mind. From the cowboy boots to the red bow in her hair, she looks like the perfect rock 'n roll hillbilly. Heh, I guess that's where the term 'rockabilly' comes from.

"Are those Japanese people on your dress?" It's not what I want to say, in fact it's a dumb-ass question. Those are obviously Japanese people on her dress, wearing kimonos and holding those fans. It's just that I still get all stupid when I look at her sometimes, like a scrawny teenage kid would if they were meeting a Playboy bunny.

"Yeah, there are!" Gwen turns around to model the dress, the skirt spinning out around her legs. She drops a kiss on Apollo's and explains, "It's not like a super country dress at all, but I still think it works, don't you? It's a little bit of me, and a little bit of you, so it's perfect."

I stand there and smile like an idiot. Yup, it's perfect.

"Can I get a picture with you folks? My grandkids aren't gonna believe that I met you guys." One of the handlers from the petting zoo brings her phone over and we take a few pictures with her. This gives me a chance to get my bearings, so I don't look or sound like a complete jackass the next time I speak. It's kind of embarrassing to lose my cool sometimes when I'm around her. She's just so amazing to me, so beautiful, that I still find myself tongue-tied here and there. Once we're done with the pictures, the handler thanks us and walks away.

I try again to compliment Gwen. She looks amazing, as usual, and I feel compelled to let her know, as always. "You look like a sexy rockabilly pin-up babe with that hair and the red lips."

"A sexy pin-up babe, wow! I like that." Those red lips part in a smile, and she gets all cute and flirty, ducking her head down as she looks up at me and batting those dark lashes.

I step in closer, invading her personal space and forcing her to look up at me. "I like it too...a lot, actually." I feel her fingers reaching for mine and silently wish that we had more privacy.

She lets the squirming guest of honor down, so he can run off to his brother who's a few feet away excitedly waving him over. Turning back to me, she picks up my hand again, replying, "Baby, I could be wearing a paper bag and you'd like it a lot." 

True. "Especially if it showed off your legs." I lean down to kiss her cheek and she closes her eyes as I make contact. 

With so many people coming around - strangers, friends and family - I try hard to be the respectfully affectionate country boy and not the horny country boy; the line between horny and affectionate gets blurred with us though, so I'm working overtime and putting in extra effort to remember to keep my hands and lips somewhat to myself.

"Come on, cowboy," her voice is muted and with a knowing smile she starts walking, pulling me along. "Let's go find something else to get into." 

 

What we get into are all the people who start showing up, almost all at once, when the clock hits 1pm. Aunts and uncles, friends and acquaintances all pour into the pool house and backyard, and Gwen and I circulate both together and individually, as we greet people and get pulled into conversations. I feel strangely like a real dad hosting his son's second birthday party, with the boys and their cousins and friends running around, and parents and family coming up to talk with me as if I were one of them. I think I fit right in with this parent thing and I'm loving it. Sure, I'm new to this and I've barely gotten my feet wet, but being an influence on Kingston, Zuma and Apollo is such a crazy awesome thing. And I enjoy being able to support Gwen, as I step into the role of being a parent more and more. As it turns out, a single mom of three boys is the love of my life; that's such an awesome thing for me.

My eyes roam the spacious yard, searching for her now. There are so many people here, that I don't know if I'm gonna be able to find...there she is, her blonde ponytail swinging as she helps her baby boy dismount from a pony. We've talked about getting the boys their own ponies when they come to the ranch this June to spend part of their summer. I can't wait to see the looks on their little faces when that happens.

I'm talking to my biggest fan, a.k.a. her dad, when she comes and beckons to us. "Apollo wants to sing with the band and I think... I'm not going to be okay."

We leave the pool area to go the grassy space where many of the kids and some of the Stefani family are seated. Gwen and I stand next to each other, and my arm naturally goes around her waist, hauling her into my side. Sure enough, Apollo has the microphone in his hand and is singing loudly along with the band as they play one of the greatest songs of all time.

"...H, I, J, K, LNMPoPee..." I can't help but chuckle at his confident rendition of The Alphabet Song. He's singing right into the mike, lips almost touching it, so the sound is a bit distorted, but for the second time today I'm feeling proud of a little boy who I barely knew at this time last year.

Gwen's sniff catches my attention and I look over to see her fighting tears. Of course, she's crying; I don't expect her to be any less emotional on this day than on any other. I smile gently down at her, and as a tear drops, I use my thumb to sweep it away.

"That's my miracle baby, Blake, and he's gotten so big. It feels like I just brought him home from the hospital yesterday. Look at him!" I can remember Gwen bringing him on the set of "The Voice" during season 7. I was shocked that she was breastfeeding him and was always so impressed by her as a mom. I still am. But listening to her talk is almost bittersweet, seeing as how I didn't get in on the ground floor, so to speak.

"I don't know anything about bringing a baby home from the hospital, but I do know that you're an amazing mom now. He seems real at ease with that mike in front of a crowd of people, too." Planting a kiss on her forehead, we stand and watch as the pint-sized performer finishes up his first selection. 

Kirk Hill & the Hillbillies launch into a countrified version of "Whip and Nae-Nae" and Apollo doesn't lose a beat. He is in hip-hop heaven, complete with dance moves and everything. He's got all the kids on their feet, too, dancing along and the photographer is doing a great job of getting lots of shots of all the action. It's the most adorable thing I've ever seen and Gwen yells out "Yay, Apollo!", and claps in support.

Eventually, our birthday boy tires of all the attention and adoration and he passes the microphone to another party-goer, as they belt out "The Wheels on the Bus". Cute, sure, but nowhere near as amazing as Apollo was. He comes running over to us now, his tiny feet just wearing socks; his miniature cowboy boots are probably in the big pile over by the trampoline. Gwen scoops him up in her arms and smothers him with kisses. "Mommy saw you singing up there!"

His curls fly across his face as he turns his head to look at me for approval. "B'ake, I sing Nae-Nae!" He's so excited and proud if himself.

"I heard you! You sang Nae-Nae so good, Apollo. High five, buddy!" He smiles and his little hand slaps mine repeatedly. That's kind of "our thing", and like always, after about the fifth slap, he dissolves into giggles. 

He scrambles out of his moms arms, and goes to his grandpa, sharing the same good news about his debut performance. It's fun to think about him growing up and following in his mom's footsteps. Or maybe even mine.

 

"I never realized how tiring a kid's birthday party could be." We're sitting by the pool, my arm draped around Gwen's waist, and her arm flung across my shoulder. I hope everybody leaves us alone for a while, as I'm feeling quite comfortable here, just her and me. "Lots more fun than I expected, though."

She utters a "hmph" before answering, "I'm sure the beer helps, though."

"You're damn right." My once-full glass is now empty, so I place it on the table that's at my side and use my newly freed-up fingers to tangle with her unoccupied hand. 

"Plus, how could I feel anything but right at home with this country theme? Truth is, I'm the oddball country guy from Oklahoma who spends most of his time in sophisticated L.A., but I'm sitting here now like some consultant from "The Beverly Hillbillies" watching all of these city slicker extras wearing boots and plaid and straw hats. I should feel totally out of my element here, but I don't. You know what's? With you I never feel out of place. You do such a good job at making me feel like I fit into your world, and that you and the boys fit into mine, no matter how different those worlds actually are. It makes me feel so damn flattered, so proud that you wanna be with me."

"Baby, you and me are forever, right?" Her head is turned towards mine, and she speaks the rhetorical question in a low voice, for my ears only. "Your world is our world now, too, so why wouldn't I try to like, include that as much as possible. Plus it's so damn cool; the boys love it and I mean, these cowboy boots are so rad, y'know?" She kicks up her feet to admire them, while simultaneously slipping into her most Orange County accent. 

She states it as a fact, as if making me feel important to her was a given. I guess she doesn't realize that no one has ever made me feel so important in their life on a day to day basis. "You overwhelm me sometimes, you know that?"

She asks, "In a good way?", but she already knows the answer. 

"In the best possible way."

Our faces are so close together, and as she looks in my eyes, I feel like everything I need in this life, I find in her. "It's just that the transition from me and their dad being married to being divorced, and then from me being single, to us being together was so fast. I was really scared of it all being too much for them. But I think your lifestyle being so different from ours kind of helped ease things along though, because they were so fascinated by you, so it all kind of worked out really, really well."

" _You_ did that. You're just that good." I repeat her words from "The Voice" back to her and she laughs in recognition.

"I mean, yeah, Blake, but _we_ did that." She squeezes my hand in hers. "I couldn't have done it by myself."

"Okay, _we_ did that, but I still know that you can do anything. I think you proved that last Monday during the Grammy's." The fact that she made a video live, in one take, during the awards show will amaze me until the day I die. She is the only person in the world who can say that she's done something that major. "Speaking of which..."

She kisses my cheek and leans back at the sudden change in my tone. "What?" 

"Did I read somewhere that you dumped me?" We love randomly teasing each other about our tabloid headlines. We've reasoned that it's probably healthier to joke about them, than to get angered by them.

She nods her head, convincingly. "Yeah, didn't I tell you about that?"

"No, I'm pretty sure you forgot to mention it." My face is scrunched up in fake confusion.

"Oh, my bad." She shrugs as if it's nothing. "It's okay, though; we're back together now."

I make a fist and pull my elbow in towards my body, as if I were saying "Yes!" The more dramatic, the better. "Thank god. I was concerned about our twins."

"Didn't you hear?" I shake my head to tell her that I hadn't. She condescendingly pats my hand. "Don't worry about it; they're not even yours."

 

The party is finally winding down, several hours later, and I think I've met every Stefani, Ciccone, and Flynn that lives in Southern California. I'm sitting down at a picnic table watching Gwen talk to a cousin whose name starts with R...Rachel? Rebecca? Whatever her name is, she just gave birth to a daughter five months ago, and Gwen is smiling and talking and cooing to her as she takes the baby from her mother's arms and heads my way. 

Just looking at her holding that baby girl is twisting my heart so bad. I love those boys, but the thought of me having a daughter with Gwen is a dream that I've hardly allowed myself to indulge in. There are too many factors to take into account, and so I don't even go there. It's probably the only that secret that I've kept from her.

She stands in front of me now, holding the baby facing towards me. "Look at this little bunny, Blake. Isn't she adorable?"

My voice is stuck somewhere in the tangled web of my stomach as I look at the two of them, and just about all I can do is smile and nod. I pull Gwen down onto my lap, snuggling her close, and she sweet talks the baby all the more. Big brown eyes stare at me from her chubby face, and I can't help but wonder, for the hundredth time, how a baby that Gwen and I created might look. Hair curly like mine or straight like hers? Deep chocolate eyes, or baby blue? Would it have dimples, like me? Would it be perfection, like her?

I've been so lost in my thoughts that I fail to notice Gwen watching me. "Blake, I've been thinking," she's speaking slowly, tentatively, weighing each word so carefully. "I thought that I was done having babies, that my family was complete, but so much has changed and now I'm not so sure." The little girl puts her fist in her mouth, content to stay in Gwen's arms. Can't say that I blame her.

"Would you even want for us to try to have a one?" She seems a bit nervous, unsure of what I'll say, and barrels through, not giving me the space to answer. "Because I'd love to finish out our family by having your baby. I'd love to try for one more; maybe we could have a little girl."

She wants to have my baby. No one has ever said those words to me before, at least not seriously and while sober. But I don't want to get my hopes up or seem too eager. "We don't know if that's even possible. Can I have kids? Can _you_ still have a baby? The question isn't if I would want one, but if we could have one if we tried."

"Well, I tried to get pregnant about five or six years ago with no success, and then one day in 2013, out of the blue, Kingston prayed and you know what happened next." And Apollo made three. "I could make an appointment with the doctor and see what she says...if you're even interested in finding out."

"I am." I answer quickly, looking up from the baby to Gwen. Imagining her carrying my child is doing awfully funny things to my insides. Although, I'm content with life as it is right now, if given the chance... "All we need is another miracle."

"Well, I got my baby boy Apollo, and then God gave me you." She looks at the baby as she rocks her gently on her lap. "So yeah, all we would need is one more."

"Honestly, that would be a dream come true for me, to have a baby girl that looks just like you. I wouldn't even know what to do with myself. You being pregnant would be the most amazing gift I've ever received, besides having you and the boys in my life. I don't want to get my hopes up, though." This is uncharted territory for me, and it's as scary as it is exciting.

With her free hand, she strokes back a stray lock of my hair from my face. "But it's definitely worth looking into, you think?"

"Definitely."

She waits a beat, kissing the baby on her forehead but maintaining eye contact with me. "Maybe we can recruit Kingston to pray for us?"

"Maybe."

"But you love me and the boys, either way it goes?"

Kingston, Zuma and Apollo race past us now, their faces smeared with vanilla frosting, their clothes disheveled and covered in grass stains and spilled fruit punch. They laugh as they fly by, and Gwen and I turn to look at them, smiling at them first, and then at each other.

"Forever."

**Author's Note:**

> Total fiction, based on the pictures that circulated online. I don't think that Gwen is pregnant right now, and although I think it would be so cute if her and Blake did have a baby together, I also think they'd be perfectly fine without one. It's just fun to speculate. 
> 
> To HotlineBling, the most domestic Shefani shipper I know.


End file.
